Jar of Honey
by KeepCalmFanFicExists
Summary: Little Narcissa Black has noticed some changes in her eldest sister's behaviour lately, and she's having some thoughts on the matter.


Narcissa was worried, very worried.

She had spent a good portion of her life trying to figure out her eldest sister, Bellatrix, and by now she could tell when something was wrong with her. And this time, oh, this time, she was certain something was very off.

Her sister's behaviour had suffered a dramatic change in the recent weeks and Narcissa's simple nine-year-old mind had difficulty processing. All she could say was that she was reminded of a scene she had stumbled upon two years ago; the bizarre and even shameful feeling was the same.

It had been a very frosty November and the Black Castle resembled a Christmas card palace covered in snow. It had been bitter cold and little Narcissa could not take her afternoon nap. She had called for the elves and her sister to bewitch the bedcovers or just light a bigger fire, but apparently they had all been very busy, and so she had decided to get something nice and tasty to eat herself. She had climbed down all the stairs that led to the vast, cavernous kitchen trying not to cry when she had scratched her ankle on the stony steps. She would have run inside the room and close to the stove to get warmer, but a very interesting sight caught her eye first. There, in front of the burning fire, Bellatrix was sitting on a dilapidated stool, her legs bent close to her body, supporting a huge honey jar that Narcissa would have sworn had been almost full that morning. Bellatrix was repeatedly submerging a spoon inside it and eating happily the honey with large gulps. Her eyes were sparkling greedily and her cheeks had a healthy crimson shade as they puffed with every spoonful of honey. Most alarming was the fact she hadn't noticed the honey that had stained her nightgown and the end of her long braid.

Narcissa had remained at the doorstep for quite some time gazing at her sister eating, with amazement and some unexplainable terror, ignoring her shivering and hunger. She had hastily left a few minutes later, fearing Bella would notice, and she didn't know why, but it felt like a violation of her privacy, seeing her like that. Narcissa never told anyone what she had seen.

Now she came to think of it, she had been surprised to see Bellatrix experience regular human needs, like wanting to eat something very sweet or feeling the cold winter. Because... well, she had never thought of her that way; she had never realised she, too, was human.

Bellatrix had been very different since Narcissa could remember her. Strong-willed and independent, brilliant and beautiful, she could easily be compared to an adult. And yet, she was again a very unconventional witch who never enjoyed small talk and typical female activities; very cold and without friends, she treated her two little sisters more like she was their mother than anything else. Yes, she was a strange fruit and everyone knew it.

Only now, Narcissa was getting glimpses of this other Bellatrix, the one that felt the cold and craved honey, every time a very odd man would appear or was just mentioned. Mr. Riddle, Narcissa had to admit, was indeed very peculiar and would drive in everyone who met him. Polite, sharp and handsome, with eyes that seemed like they could pierce your soul, he had captured the attention of the pureblooded community, especially its female members. Narcissa had found disturbing how all the older girls would argue who would dance with him first, and even more that Bellatrix had turned pink when Mr. Riddle had asked only her. And that had been just the beginning.

Her sister had began caring about her appearance more, even arguing with their mother about what dresses were considered suitable for her age and position at the balls, was more frequently quiet and would spend countless hours in her room locked up, either playing her beloved violin or writing letters. And when Mr. Riddle was close, Bellatrix seemed to have eyes only for him. Her expression would become as greedy as that afternoon she had been eating the honey, her hands would hold him as firmly as she had held the jar and her neck would turn the same brilliant crimson.

Narcissa could just not understand why her sister was reacting like that and she worried whether this change would be permanent. For some reason, this thought was the most unsettling of all.

_A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. _


End file.
